


Glam-100 Prompt Drabbles

by montmorency



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montmorency/pseuds/montmorency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My glam_100 drabble fics - with prompt given for each</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Prompt #001: on the bus (no sex)_

 

BURBANK TO HOLLYWOOD

Burbank through the Cahuenga Pass to the Viper Room. Riding the bus is a serious pain in the ass. Tommy keeps one arm over the guitar case propped against the seat even though the back of the bus is nearly empty this time of night.

The guy across the aisle – is he hitting on Tommy? He’s kind of cute with floppy dark brown hair and maybe some eyeliner; he definitely noticed the case. He’s got a killer smile, too, not that Tommy is into guys.

“Guitar?” the guy asks and Tommy nods, looks away. He’s not good with strangers.

ALONG SUNSET

It takes forever to get from Gower to Palm. The guy talks the whole way. By the time Tommy’s at his stop, he knows the guy’s name is Adam, he sings in a band, he’s meeting friends at the Roxy, he’s from San Diego, he likes frappuccinos and long walks on the beach. Plus Tommy’s left palm bears a Sharpie'd phone number.

The bus lurches off in a smoggy haze, leaving Tommy on the sidewalk contemplating his palm. Adam’s lips were pretty so maybe some future snogging wouldn’t be out of the question.

But no sex: Tommy’s not into guys.

 

\-----

 _Prompt #002: playing with fire_

 

SECRET

The bus jostles onward through the dark, somewhere between Cornhole, Iowa, and Bumfuck, South Dakota. Tommy’s alone on the couch in the lounge area. Bored, Adam flops down beside him.

“Whatcha got there?” he asks, nudging Tommy’s shoulder.

“Nuthin,” Tommy says, shielding _something_ from Adam’s gaze. Something under his hoodie, something that Tommy’s holding against his chest with one hand.

“Give it up or I’ll tickle it out of you,” Adam threatens none too convincingly.

Tommy’s about to protest when the secret gives itself up: a tiny tortoiseshell kitten claws its way up Tommy’s tee-shirt and pokes its head out.

 

PRETTY KITTY

“Tommy!” Adam hisses, startled. “Did you steal someone’s pet?”

“No!” Tommy says, wide-eyed, lifting the kitten out and holding it in one hand while it bats at the string tie dangling from his hoodie. “She was hanging around the dumpster back at that truck stop. Look, she’s all dirty and scrawny.”

Adam looks over his shoulder, checking to make sure they’re still alone. “Lane will kill you.”

“What was I supposed to do, leave her to die?”

Adam raises one eyebrow. Tommy stares back.

At a sudden racket from the front, Adam panics and shoves at Tommy. “Hide! Move, now!”

 

FIRE

Tommy scuttles to Adam’s fancy bedroom at the very back. He sits cross-legged on the bed and sets the kitten down gently. The door opens and closes; Adam climbs onto the bed holding a Styrofoam bowl. “So much for cream in your coffee,” he says.

The kitten sniffs at and then eagerly laps the half-and-half.

“What am I going to do with you?” Adam sighs, pushing Tommy’s bangs behind his ear.

Tommy looks at him and smiles sweetly. He runs a finger along the kitten’s tiny back. She mews, milky-whiskered, then returns to drinking. “Fire,” says Tommy. “That's her name.”

 

\-----

 _continuation of kitty fic from comments:_

BIZZY KITTY

Fire races through the bus, licks at Adam’s ankle, and springs up on the bed. She’s too fast to be caught and she’s not in the mood for that anyway. Tommy wants to bundle her up and snuggle some more, but it’s late night and Fire is loaded with energy after a full day of napping.

Adam reaches for Tommy, but Tommy twitches away. Adam huffs, peeved. “You know, when I first called you kitty, I had no idea how right I was. You’re just like her.”

Tommy grins and sits still long enough for a smooch on the cheek.

 

\-----

 _Prompt #004: puppet master_

 

PULLING YOUR STRINGS

“Ha,” says Tommy, “you think you’re so clever.”

The kitten is adorably confused – where did it go? Tommy opens his fist and she attacks the mean fluffy ball, then springs straight up in the air and lands on the comforter, back arched.

“She’s like a puppet on a string.”

“You have it backwards,” Adam says, tugging on the long hair at the back of Tommy’s head. “She’s got you under her thumb. Pussy-whipped.”

Tommy tosses the ball to Fire. “Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“Get me a Coke?”

“Sure.” Adam gets up and goes in search of soda.

Tommy snickers. “Pussy-whipped my ass.”

 

\-----

 _Prompt #008: texting/tweeting_

 

WET SPOT

There had been a small mixup at tonight’s concert, so before bedtime, Monte is reviewing the song cues with the band.

In the middle of which Tommy’s phone buzzes and they all look at him and he looks at it.

Adam’s text reads: _theres something gross on my bed_

 _I didnt do it_ Tommy replies immediately.

 _srsly gross_

 _NOT ME!_ Tommy clicks in forcefully.

 _looks like a wet hair wad_

Uh oh. Tommy turns to the band. They’re waiting expectantly. No one really wants to review cues; this is more interesting. “I need to switch buses at the next stop.”

* * *

Half an hour later he climbs onto the dancers’ bus to find Adam sitting cross-legged on the bed, in his p.j.’s, a sleepy kitten cradled against his chest.

It’s way cute except for the glare Adam is aiming at the foot of the bedspread.

“What in fuck is it?”

Tommy’s been in Monte’s house a few times so he I.D.’s it right away. “Hairball,” he says mildly, going off to the bathroom for some toilet paper.

A brief flush later and the evidence is gone, but Adam is still shuddering slightly.

“People keep these beasts around their houses?” he asks.

* * *

It’s not easy getting the covers out from under Adam’s legs, especially with Adam glaring the whole time, but Tommy manages it.

“I can’t sleep with a hairball!”

“It’s gone,” Tommy says, peeling off his jeans and crawling under the covers.

“But I know there’s a wet spot,” Adam argues, nonetheless scrunching down lower and letting Tommy arrange the covers around him and Fire.

Tommy snickers, tucks his head against Adam’s chest, right where he can rub noses with Fire.

“Goddammit,” Adam sighs, “I’m so smitten.”

“Same here,” says Tommy.

“I mean with you,” Adam corrects.

“Yeah. Same.”

Fire mews.

 

\-----

 _Prompt #003: bewitched by the bayou_

 

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU

Fireflies glittered.

The tiny boat glided serenely through the night-quiet bayou.

A soft banjo tune wafted from a lantern-lit houseboat as they floated past.

Unexpectedly, Tommy whispered, “This is romantic.” He shifted a little and their boat rocked.

“Ruined slightly by the clink of silverware in the distance and the horrors that lie ahead,” Adam said in a hushed voice.

“Don’t fucking destroy my fucking fantasy, Mr. Vanilla Lover Boy.” Tommy leaned his shoulder against Adam and Adam’s arm snuck around Tommy’s waist and squeezed.

“I put a spell on you,” Adam half-murmured, half-sang, stealing a kiss in the dark.


	2. Music Again

**Title: Music Again**  
 **Pairing/Characters: Adam/Tommy**  
 **Rating (Word Count): 600**  
 **Warning(s): None**   
**Author's notes: This actually follows immediately after my recent short _Twin Reverb_ but you don’t have to read that to get this.**

I.

It’s a beautiful morning. The birds are singing. The scent of plumeria wafts through the windows.

Adam trots down the stairs in a glorious mood.

Tommy is twanging away on a guitar.

Adam swipes a mug of fresh coffee (thank you, Tommy) from the kitchen counter and detours into what they’ve started calling _Tommy’s play room._

Tommy finishes the riff and palm-mutes the strings. He stares at a piece of paper – lyrics maybe – lying on the divan beside him. His hands caress the guitar, one running along the back of the neck, the other stroking the curve of the body.

II.

Adam stops in front of Tommy, looking down, enjoying the sight of the tousled blond head, bare feet, and chipped nail polish. “You know, Tommy Joe, sometimes I wish you’d fondle _me_ half as intently as you fondle that guitar.”

Tommy looks up mischievously. “Jealous?”

“Should I be?”

“Hey, I have to treat this baby right. This is how I earn a living.”

Adam snorts. “Molesting an inanimate object?”

“I’m learning _your new song,_ bitch.”

Adam sighs as though deeply offended and flounces to the big cozy chair across the room and drops into it, careful not to spill coffee.

III.

He doesn’t want to admit that he didn’t recognize the song at first. Tommy’s working out new rhythmic riffs to complement the melodic line. The sound seeps into his bones as he burrows further into the chair. He catches the progression of the chords and hums along softly, fitting the tune into the music.

When Tommy stops and sets the guitar aside, Adam puts his coffee mug on the floor, an invitation that Tommy obeys, padding across the floor, slipping onto Adam’s lap. Adam puts an arm around Tommy’s shoulder.

“I like the song,” says Tommy.

“Me, too,” says Adam.

IV.

Tommy takes Adam’s free arm and runs his hand along the key tattoo, back and forth. It tickles a bit but it also feels good.

“Maybe I’ll get a lock next,” Tommy says.

“Where? Over your heart?” Adam smiles.

Tommy shakes his head. “Nope. Here.” He indicates the inside of his right arm opposite the Duke.

Adam touches the pale tender skin there and Tommy shivers. “Don’t cover all this up,” Adam says. “This is one of my favorite places. Leave some of it the way it is, please. For me?”

“Yeah?” says Tommy, stroking the back of Adam’s neck.

V.

“Yeah,” Adam insists. He closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of Tommy’s hands on him. “Which is your favorite?” he asks.

“Favorite? You mean guitar?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Tommy interlaces his fingers with Adam’s and contemplates their joined hands, resting against Tommy’s thigh. “I can’t choose. My first guitar is a cheap Squier but I learned on it, you know? I could never get rid of it. I never play it live, though.”

Adam considers, tilting his head so that Tommy can nuzzle his throat. “I guess I wouldn’t drag out my old prepubescent voice at a concert, either,” he laughs.

VI.

There’s nothing better in the world, Adam thinks, than a lazy morning full of sun and song and the prospect of a day at the beach, and a cuddly boyfriend on your lap, seducing you with tender touches and soft kisses.

Adam cracks one eye open. “Oh, now I get it.”

Tommy lifts his head and looks at Adam. “Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

“I am clever.”

“Yes, you are, baby. But I see what you’re doing now.”

“What am I doing?” Tommy asks innocently.

Adam grins. “Fondling me.”

“You love it,” says Tommy.

“I do.”


	4. Making Up

Title: Making Up  
Pairing/Characters: Adam/Tommy  
Rating (Word Count): 400  
Warning(s): None   
Author's notes: Sparkly! Also, this is fiction, not reality.

 

“Hold still,” Adam says, keeping a firm grip on Tommy’s chin. “You’re squirming like a newborn puppy.”

“Ow,” Tommy says mildly. “That kinda hurts.”

“It’ll get way better in a moment,” Adam promises.

“Ow fuck! Ow! Fuuuuuck!” Tommy yelps. Then: “Oh, that’s much better.”

“Told ya,” Adam says smugly. He holds up the tweezers, displaying a small rhinestone. “I hope this thing didn’t scratch your cornea.”

Tommy rubs at his eye with his fist. Adam grabs the wrist and pulls it away.

“Don’t, honey. That’s how this happened in the first place,” Adam says. “Now you have one raccoon eye.” 

* * *

They’re in the hotel bathroom where Tommy’s perched on the sink counter because it’s closest to the light source. Adam reaches for his makeup bag. It’s pretty small lately. He gets out a makeup wipe and reaches for Tommy’s chin again. “I thought we weren’t doing glitter these days.”

Tommy closes his eyes, lets Adam turn his face where he wants it. “Think it was a leftover hiding in a corner of my man kit.”

“Man kit? You mean your makeup bag?”

“I don’t have one of those. I have a man kit.”

“Where you keep your Old Spice deodorant.”

* * *

“Don’t make fun. That stuff’s the shit.”

Adam chuckles, carefully removing smudged dark eye shadow from Tommy’s closed eye.

“Do you miss the glitter?” Tommy asks.

Adam tilts Tommy’s face the other way to clean makeup from the other side. “Not really. Case in point, rhinestone in eye.” He frowns in concentration, wiping gently until the last of the makeup is gone from Tommy’s face. 

Tommy’s eyes open. Adam’s hand is still on his cheek. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Adam.”

Adam turns a little pink at the compliment, even under foundation. “Makeup makes my eyes stand out better.”

* * *

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t need makeup to be beautiful.”

Adam smiles fondly. “Where’d my everyday Tommy Joe go? Usually it’s all mediocre-singer-average-looking yadda yadda.” 

Tommy shrugs. “That’s in public. This is private.” He takes Adam’s hand in his own, holding it lightly against his thigh. His other hand grasps Adam’s t-shirt to pull him closer. Adam presses against Tommy, and Tommy locks his legs around Adam’s hips.

“I wish I had your eyelashes, or your skin,” Adam says.

“I don’t,” Tommy replies. “I’d rather wake up to your face than mine.”

After that, what can Adam do but kiss him.


	5. Ring of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little vignette in the ‘verse from my LBB fic ("How I Learned My Lesson"). This drabble was posted first at the Glam-100 drabble comm on LJ. That's why it's 100 words long. :D

“I guess it’s finally time to tell you,” Tommy says.

“Tell me what, baby?” Adam asks, distracted by a tray of shiny skull rings.

“You’re not listening.” 

Adam turns and focuses his laser-beam-blue eyes on Tommy. “I’m totally giving you my full attention, I promise.” 

The sales clerk thoughtfully moves out of earshot. Tommy fiddles with the ring he’s trying on. 

“I’m buying that for you," Adam warns, "so don’t destroy it."

Tommy’s eyes go wide. “I’m pretty fucking sure I’m as gay as a daisy in May,” he blurts out.

Adam laughs all the way to the cash register.


End file.
